


Want

by Fairfaxleasee



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairfaxleasee/pseuds/Fairfaxleasee
Summary: Quinn and the Warrior regret the limits of their relationship (set between Acts I and II)
Relationships: Female Sith Warrior & Vette, Malavai Quinn & Vette, Malavai Quinn/Female Sith Warrior
Kudos: 10





	Want

“What is the point of this game again, Vette?”

Invernesse studied the-she couldn’t remember what it was supposed to be. The most logical name for it would be ‘card’ but it was thick and oddly shaped for that. Would it be a tile? A token, perhaps?

Regardless, attempting to ascertain the correct nomenclature for the thing in her hand seemed to her like a much more interesting endeavor than using it for its intended purpose in the game of pazaak Vette had finally worn her down into agreeing to.

“It’s a game, the point is to have fun.”

“If that’s the point why can’t we play holochess?”

“Because no one can beat you at it so it’s not fun.”

“So the point of this game is to play something you can beat me at which is what makes it fun?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure that’s how this works?”

“Do I tell you how to Sith?”

“Yes. Constantly.”

“Okay, well, do you ever listen to me when I do?”

“It’s not my fault you’re wrong about it, Vette.”

“And it’s the same here, Sith have no idea how to have fun so you should leave it to my expertise.”

“Or, alternatively, you’re wrong about how to Sith so I shouldn’t listen to you about having fun because you’re wrong about that too.”

“Pazaak is fun, Verne, you just have to know how to play it right.”

“‘Right’ you say...so does that mean I play it so I get all your credits or so you get all my credits?”

“Yes.”

Invernesse rolled her eyes. Kind of. She was Chiss so it never had quite the visual impact she would have liked it to, but her species’ monochrome, luminescent eyes had other advantages. She never had to worry about people not knowing she wasn’t looking at them most of the time they were speaking when she tended to look at everything besides the other parties in the conversation.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“I don’t know, did I?”

“No. But you tried to, didn’t you?”

“Not all of us have your prodigious talents, Vette.”

Invernesse went back to studying the pazaak...thing in her hand. She couldn’t figure how to use it in the game she was supposed to be playing, but she thought she might be able to use it to build a rudimentary tower on the table in front of them.

“Verne! That is not how you play pazaak.”

“I gather that, but this is more fun.”

“Ugh, I forget you never had any friends because Sith are all terrible people.”

“If we’re such terrible people, why would I want to be friends with them? Also if we’re such terrible people, why are you friends with me?”

“Oh, I’m not questioning your judgement on not trying to make Sith-y friends. And I’m friends with you because you’re not a terrible person, but that’s because you’re such a terrible Sith.”

Invernesse tilted her head in agreement. She had to admit, with a singular exception, she was an objectively terrible Sith Lord. She didn’t care for strength, or power, or victory, or crushing enemies, or expanding the influence of the Empire, or...much of anything really. Well, she liked her tower she was building but she didn’t think she could get more than 2 or 3 stories to stay standing and even if she could she’d probably lose interest before long. She liked Vette well enough, the Twi’lek was usually up to something entertaining and these kinds of exchanges, ‘ribbing each other’ as Vette called them, were enjoyable and she was getting on with her new apprentice Jasea fairly well, at least so far, but these weren’t the kind of things she was supposed to care about. She understood what was expected of her but even so, she didn’t see a particular reason to build up some sort of personal army to do her bidding so she could impose her will on the galaxy. It just sounded like much more effort than it was worth, or that she was interested in expending on it. 

“My Lord, you should really not let her speak to you that way!”

Invernesse turned to see Quinn standing in the doorway glaring at Vette. She raised an eyebrow. While she wasn’t disappointed to see him, beyond not wanting to referee the fight that inevitably happened whenever he and Vette were in the same conversation and he had just picked, she was surprised. Quinn was deliberately formal in their interactions. He would usually send a request for a meeting well in advance of him actually approaching her.

Quinn noticed her reaction and looked away quickly, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Ah, yes. Apologies for not formally requesting a meeting, however this is a somewhat urgent matter…”

“Hey, Captain Killjoy, we’re doing something urgent too.”

“No, you are not Vette. You are wasting My Lord’s time like you always do.”

Invernesse sighed and wandered to the panoramic window of her Kaas City apartment. It was raining like almost always, but she liked it that way. She particularly enjoyed watching the lightning strikes. When she was alone she liked trying to predict where they would land. 

She would likely have to intervene at some point in the exchange she was currently ignoring, Quinn and Vette agreed on two things: that they hated each other and it was entirely the other’s fault so neither was particularly willing to back down without her asking them both to, but for now she just wanted to watch the rain run down the outside of the window and try to get away from their mutual animosity. She had to deal with enough anger as a Sith.

_ Maybe I should try to figure out some sort of reverse tractor beam that would keep them a minimum distance apart at all times...which would work until they started using it to try and kill each other. _

Invernesse stopped tracing the path of individual raindrops on the window when she suddenly realized something was wrong. Or, strictly speaking, right? She was sure both Quinn and Vette were still in the room, but the anger between them was somehow muted. She turned and caught the last part of what Vette was saying to Quinn as he looked away from both of them, jaw and fist clenched.

“...actually likes you for some insane reason so I’m doing this for her, not you.”

Vette caught her gaze and addressed her.

“Verne, I’m heading out. We’re playing again so you better either practice or get more credits.”

“Would you  _ please _ address her with the respect due a Sith Lord?”

“Verne, do you want to be respected as a Sith Lord or liked as a person?”

Invernesse wasn’t sure if she was expected to give an answer so she tilted her head to stall for time.

“That is not what I-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Captain Killjoy. Bye, Verne.”

Vette waived without looking back as she left the room. After a few seconds Invernesse heard the door to the hallway open and shut.

She shifted her focus to Quinn who was still looking away from her. Again she lamented her inability to get a clear read on the man. Sith were supposed to be good at reading emotions, but either her skills there were substandard or Quinn was particularly good at controlling or suppressing his. She had never had trouble reading emotions enough to impress at the Academy, although that might have been because when dealing with arrogant, narcissistic, and dramatic people ‘angry’ was inevitably a correct answer. She didn’t even have to try to find it. ‘Angry’ was easy for her to feel from others. It was so easy that it made dealing with too many people or for too extended a period of time a distinctly unpleasant experience for her. She had no ability to ignore the anger in a room when she was immersed in it even as it made her skin burn and sting. But other emotions were beyond her capacity. She wasn’t sure if it was the same for all Sith; after all, ‘Can you do this thing I cannot?’ wasn’t the kind of question one could really go about asking as a Sith, but she had an inkling it was just her, or at least her to a more detrimental extent than should have been.

She didn’t  _ think _ Quinn was angry with her, at least not yet. But that could always change, and the possibility unnerved her, particularly if she couldn’t understand what she had done that had changed it. She didn’t want Quinn angry with her, she wanted him to like her. She had flirted with him before, but he specifically requested she stop, so she had. Or at least she had tried to. It was hard when she was still unsure why he had wanted the formality, why he still clung to it. Imperial standards and ceremony were important to him, and while Invernesse largely ignored them, it sounded correct to her that any sort of liaison between a Sith Lord and Imperial Officer, or really any non-Force sensitive for that matter, that was anything more than a passing fancy for the Sith was considered highly inappropriate. Invernesse had no interest in any passing fancies. She had, if anything, less interest in what was or was not considered appropriate, but it mattered to Quinn, and she couldn’t demand he stop thinking so just because it would have been more convenient for her.

She wished he would, and not just because it was painful to watch him reinforce the barriers between them; the formalities Quinn insisted upon would be exhausting even if she were otherwise apathetic to him, like she was to so many people. But she wasn’t. She cared more about him than he wanted her to, she just wasn’t sure if that was because he thought she shouldn’t because of the rules other people wanted to impose on her or because he just didn’t like her back. If he truly didn’t like her back, she could accept it. It would hurt, of course, but she could deal with pain. What scared her though, what made her so hesitant, was that she could  _ cause _ him to dislike her by somehow misreading or misunderstanding his intentions. 

She wasn’t going to put on an affect or assume vogue opinions for his benefit; she wanted him to like  _ her _ , not some stranger she was just pretending to be. But if he  _ could have  _ liked her and she somehow messed everything up...she would never forgive herself.  _ That _ was an unacceptable eventuality.

Quinn still wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t saying anything either, which was not helping Invernesse get any sort of read on either this particular interaction or its place in the larger context of their relationship...whatever that might be.

She left the window entirely and lounged on the arced sofa with her feet tucked up behind her. She didn’t want to antagonize him but she also didn’t particularly want to spend the day staring at him standing in her sitting room waiting for him to say something so she decided to break the silence.

“Well?”

“I...well, My Lord?”

It took him a few seconds to find her on the sofa. He had initially looked for her at the window, where he had obviously last seen her. She thought she might have seen him relax when he finally spotted her, but she wasn’t convinced it was anything beyond wishful thinking on her part.

“There was, I thought, an urgent matter you wished to discuss?”

She swept her hand, palm-up, across the empty part of the sofa and made sure to indicate an empty chair across the room as she did so, so it would be clear that the invitation to sit was not limited to the piece of furniture she was currently occupying, although the sofa was long enough that they could both probably lie flat on it and not touch and she was positioned towards one of the ends of the arc.

“Ah, no, My Lord.”

“No, there’s not something urgent to discuss?”

Invernesse was honestly confused at this. Quinn may detest Vette but she didn’t think he would interrupt them for no reason just because of that. She tilted her head at him and furrowed her brow slightly.

Quinn’s eyes widened at that and a slight flush crept over his face.

“Apologies, My Lord, I merely meant I prefer to stand. But yes, there is a matter that requires your immediate attention."

He stopped at that.

_ I wish I knew whether he thinks Sith can read minds in general or I can read his specifically. Not that it matters in the long run, I suppose. _

She twisted her hand by rotating her wrist to invite him to continue.

“It is the matter of Lord Necus’s challenge, my lord. He sent a holo…”

Quinn reached into his pocket to retrieve the copy of the holomessage and held it out to her. Inverness groaned and leaned into the couch away from him as she pressed a hand to her temple.

_ Stars damned ridiculous, pointless power struggles idiots insist on trying to force me into… _

She had been an unwitting participant in such games since her Academy days. Her mastery of the force was prodigious, or so she was told. She had a hard time believing it with how easily things came to her. Despite her general disinterest in the subject and lack of effort expended to master it, she could, and had always been able to, perform well in any sort of contest of skill. As such, she was generally regarded as “the one to beat” for people with more ambition than sense, or talent. She had adopted a strategy of largely ignoring any challenges, her scores and accolades were an acceptable alternative to constant overt displays of strength, however eventually someone with much more ambition than sense, and usually almost no talent, would seek her out and force her hand. And she would crush them. Not literally, most of the time, but she would make sure to put them down so hard and quickly that her peers would think twice before testing her again. For the last two years at the Academy she had been left blissfully to her own devices, ignored by the social games and allowed to exist peacefully unbothered in whatever power struggles were happening, at least until her talent attracted inconvenient attention and she had been pushed into becoming Baras's apprentice. And now that she was apprenticed to a Darth, she was part of the larger galaxy, faced with a proportionally larger number of similar games played less subtly by proportionally bigger idiots.

She honestly had no idea who this ‘Lord…something-or-other’ was, for all she knew, it was someone she had already had to deal with, the names and faces of the people who made a nuisance of themselves had blended together long ago but she had no intention of indulging him. She doubted Quinn would let that be the end of it, but she wasn’t about to budge on the issue.

“My Lord, this is a serious matter.”

“It’s an annoyance. A distraction. Irrelevant words from an irrelevant man.”

“My Lord, you cannot keep ignoring this kind of thing.”

“I know.”

He looked surprised at that.

“Then, forgive me, My Lord, but, what is your intention here?”

“To ignore them as long as I can.”

He closed his eyes, furrowed his brow, and sighed.

“My Lord…you really must respond to this.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“If you insist.”

She held out her hand. He walked over and placed the message in it, taking deliberate care not to actually touch her before immediately retreating to his previous position. She gripped the message in frustration at something other than its contents. Part of her wanted to simply crush it, feel it shatter in her grip, and grind it to dust in her fist. But she wasn’t angry at the message. She wasn’t even angry at whatever idiot had sent it. She was angry at herself for still being unable to understand Quinn and for not being able to figure out a way to ask him what she wanted to ask him without risking breaking what she still wanted to have.

She gripped the holo and crossed to the corner of the room where the balcony door was. She hadn’t understood what the point of a balcony in Kaas City was, she still didn’t, but the door, at least, could be useful. She pressed the wall panel and the door slid open. She enjoyed the cold sting of the rain on her skin for a moment before lifting her arm back and flinging the message as far away as she could.

“My Lord!”

She didn’t have to turn around to see the appalled look on Quinn’s face.

“There. If he tries to contact me again, you can say I responded by literally throwing his challenge away.”

She shut the door and turned around. The appalled look was indeed on Quinn’s face, but not exactly the way she was expecting it to be. There was something...else in the look but she couldn’t quite place it.

“My Lord, I do not believe that will satisfy him.”

“What do I care about satisfying him?”

“I just…forgive me, My Lord, I just believe he may seek you out to challenge you directly. You would not have time to prepare, or…”

“So what if he does? Do you think I should be concerned, Quinn? That he could pose an actual threat?”

“I...no, My Lord. I do not believe he has your talents.”

“Then what does it matter? If he’s that determined to be beaten by me, I doubt very much I could dissuade him. I see no reason to seek him out, but rest assured Quinn, that if he does force my hand I am fully prepared to deal with the eventuality.”

“I do not doubt that, My Lord, but if I may be perfectly frank…”

“Always, Quinn.”

He glanced away again.

  
“While I must decline that offer, I would still say that in this case, I believe that not responding formally may…”

He sighed and swallowed. Invernesse had no idea how he intended to finish the sentence. Or why he had stopped. These pauses in their exchanges somehow were the entire basis of her hope that she could be more than just ‘my lord’ to Quinn and the reason she doubted she ever would. She waited until she couldn’t take the silence any longer

“May what, Quinn?”

“I mean no offense, My Lord…”

“Understood, Quinn.”

“I believe that this may be taken as a sign of weakness.”

She cocked her head. She tried to choose her words carefully.

“Possibly, however, is there a response that could NOT be taken as a sign of weakness?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, My Lord.”

“What I mean to wonder is whether there is any response I could give that someone with sufficient motivation could NOT argue was a weak response. Consider, if this Lord…”

“Necus.”

“Nesac.”

She thought she might have heard him sigh at that but he let her continue.

“If he is nothing to be concerned about and I did formally respond, couldn’t someone argue that by responding rather than ignoring I am giving credence and showing concern for fundamentally baseless challenges? Or if I responded by combat, couldn’t someone also argue that I was scared of being challenged by someone stronger and just trying to make an example out of him?”

“I admit I had not considered those possibilities, however…”

He stopped again. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw. Invernesse could tell he was struggling with himself about how much to tell her. She just didn’t know why, or what he was trying to hold back.

“My Lord, you are a singularly talented Sith. You could embody the Imperial ideal, direct the course of galactic events to your will. You could have power and influence most could barely imagine, but…”

She stopped him there. She was sick and tired of everyone telling her what she was supposed to be, what they wanted her to be. According to the Sith code, mastery of the Force should set her free. So why were people claiming to respect and adhere to it constantly trying to fit her for shackles?

“But I do not want that, Quinn.”

“I...realize that, My Lord. However, I fear I do not understand.”

_ No one ever understands. _

“Have you never wanted something other than what they’ve told you to want?”

He shut his eyes and looked away.

“I...I cannot say that I have.”

“Ah. Well then, I doubt I’d be able to explain it.”

She went back to the window. She wanted to go onto the useless balcony and exist in the cold, stinging rain until she was sure she wouldn’t cry, but she wouldn’t do it while he was still there. Willingly sitting in the rain was crazy enough to turn heads without being crazy enough to instill fear in minds. That would only embolden idiots who wanted to use her as a stepping stone to their own glory. She settled for tracing the raindrops again.

She could still feel him behind her, but nothing more than that. She wasn’t quite sure why he hadn’t left or how he had taken her abrupt withdrawal from the conversation.

_ It would probably be ridiculous for me to leave my own damn apartment… _

But she wasn’t sure what other option she would have if he wouldn’t leave of his own accord given she was unwilling to insist he do so.

“My Lord, if I may…”

“Mm.”

She wasn’t sure whether she was assenting or not. She didn’t want to forbid him speaking, she just wasn’t sure she would be able to actually hear him.

“My Lord, what is it that you  _ do _ want?”

She pressed her entire hand to the glass before clawing her fingers and running it slowly down along it. She glanced ever so slightly back towards him.

“Nothing I appear likely to ever have, Quinn.”

He looked away before their eyes met.

“I apologize for disturbing you, My Lord.”

Her base senses had stopped working so she couldn’t actually see him anymore but she could still feel him turn to leave. She opened the door to the balcony and stepped out into the rain. She would stay there until even she wouldn’t be able to be sure how long she had cried.

\-----------------------------------------------------

_ ‘Have you never wanted something other than what they’ve told you to want?’ _

The question followed him down the deserted hallway.

_ Every time I think about you. _

Malivai Quinn was emphatically not supposed to want Invernesse. He shouldn’t even be thinking of her as Invernesse, she was a Sith Lord and shouldn’t be wasting her time or attention on an Imperial Captain. He knew that any affection she may have for him should be pushed aside or forgotten in favor of a more appropriate match. That had been why he had requested she cease her advances. He didn’t have time for or interest in being a temporary distraction. But after these months of watching her, he had come to understand that Invernesse wasn’t a woman to settle for a temporary distraction. She wanted something meaningful with him. Something that would last. 

She wanted to love him.

_ I should not let her want that. _

And not just because of their relative social positions. Because he was still duty-bound to a man who would, sooner or later, want her dead.

_ I should not have even met her. _

She should not be Baras’s apprentice. She just wasn't suited to the political games and social web of the upper echelons of Sith society. She had the talents, intellectual and Force, but there was something...missing that she needed to succeed. Of course 'missing' wasn't quite the correct word. She was complete, she was fine the way she was, but what she was, what drew him to her, was just not quite right for the role she was playing. If she had a different master, someone like Marr, she could have been allowed to find her own way. But she didn't. And Baras only tolerated subordinates who would find his way, and even if Invernesse managed to understand something so antithetical to her, she would never agree to go along with it. And while she was willing and able to defend herself from threats she could see coming, her blind spots were becoming more obvious to the people who would be eager to take advantage of them.

Still, it was obvious why Baras had wanted her for an apprentice, even putting aside her almost effortless mastery of the Force, her other talents were too great not to attract attention. The ease with which she had accomplished every task he had laid out for her was only matched by the peculiarity of her methods. She had let opponents live; she had let  _ Jedi  _ live; she had always been hesitant to spill blood, generally preferring to think her way out of a problem than fight her way out; she had shown mercy, compassion even; things and traits that most Sith considered anathema. That would become a liability if the wrong people ever figured out they were genuine rather than a feint. That would only be easier to exploit if he let her love him.

_ So why can't I stop myself from loving her back? _

He could still feel the echoes of her pain after the last response he had given. He wasn’t Force sensitive but she was so attuned to it that she unconsciously radiated bursts of intense emotion. She wasn’t the only Sith capable of doing it, but he doubted there was another who had emitted something other than anger, or at least who had done it and survived. He had felt her anger on occasion, usually when someone was being deliberately intransigent or somehow unreasonable, but that was always quick, forgotten as soon as the obstacle had been removed. The pain was lingering, it seemed to touch at something at the very core of her being. And he had caused it. Perhaps not intentionally, but he couldn’t say that she had misinterpreted his response. He hadn’t wanted to lie to her, so he couldn’t tell her he had never wanted something other than what he was supposed to, but the truth he had settled on, that he couldn’t say he had, was easy to understand as a negative.

Part of him wondered why she didn’t just search him for the full truth or try to use the Force to manipulate his emotions, but the rest of him knew that in addition to it being beyond her capabilities, she would see such a deliberate invasion as totally unforgivable, and likely unspeakably rude. It was part of why he loved her. And he was letting it hurt her. 

He was letting  _ himself _ hurt her. Granted, if he did decide to pursue something with her, it was possible, even likely, that he would hurt her worse in the future. But despite the hurt, she still wanted him, and he wanted her. And if he let them happen, maybe he would finally be able to feel her joy.

  
  



End file.
